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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061980">An Idiot's Guide to Personal Space</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupinlover/pseuds/remuslupinlover'>remuslupinlover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>After the End (The Last of Us) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Last of Us</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mild Language, Slow Burn, Violence, a wee bit of angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:22:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupinlover/pseuds/remuslupinlover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joel and Sam run into trouble on what they thought would be a short supply run. A near death experience leaves them barricaded in a log cabin for a week, bringing them closer than they've ever gotten before. </p><p> <br/>Confessions are working their way up her throat and she swallows to try and push the feelings back down. Her side pulses with an aching that is soothed by his wondering fingertips winding through the hair on the nape of her neck. "You did good today, old man." Her whisper is accompanied by the crickets outside and the light hum of his exhales.</p><p>"Been doin' good for days. You've just been sleepin' on your ass." His ribbing earns him a soft punch in the stomach for that but the way her fist uncurls and presses against his firm chest tells him she isn't really upset.</p><p>"I'll make it up to you when we get back."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joel (The Last of Us)/Original Character(s), Joel (The Last of Us)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>After the End (The Last of Us) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Idiot's Guide to Personal Space</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I spent the past week waiting for my Covid test results so needless to say I had way too much time to myself. This entire story came to be because I saw some post on Tumblr about the small details in Joel's house in Last of Us II. There's a copy of An Idiot's Guide to Space on his night stand and I knew I had to come up with a cheesy reason of how he even got it. Hope you enjoy. I've seen staring at this hot mess for days so if you see any typos or have critiques please feel free to let me know!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She could hear his heavy breathing and the pounding of hooves on dirt. Her head lolled back against the firm shoulder behind her. The sun had quickly disappeared below the distant mountains, teasing goodbye as the shadows darkened around them. Watching the branches and leaves fly past, if she thought hard enough it was like she was floating. She could see herself separating from Joel's arms, lifted into the air, weightless and hovering. Only to be slammed down as Joel's heels dug into Caesar's sides, urging the horse into a faster gallop. His left arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, applying pressure against the wound. She looked down and stared at the blood seeping through her once blue denim shirt. Now it looked almost black where the crimson stains decorated her side and the sleeve of Joel's flannel. This might be it, she thought as her eyes closed, wincing through the pain.</p><p>Every jostle in the saddle had her nearly doubled over. If it wasn't for the man behind her and the arm holding her close, she'd had easily fallen off. The pain is almost unbearable. It's electric-like shocks shooting through her torso with each bump and turn. She's unsure how long they've been riding. Knows they don't have much time with how frantic Joel's voice has become.</p><p>"Jus' a little farther. Stay with me now." Her head falls back against his shoulder, squinting up at the grey whiskers and signature frown. It required too much energy to speak although she wanted to tell him she was right there. With him until the end, no matter how close that may be. She settled for tightening her grip on the arm around her waist, fingers grasping the bloodied flannel sleeve with the last of her strength. Maybe he'd understand the unspoken words between them. They had gotten good at being able to say a lot of things with just a look.</p><p>Sam turned as best she could to bury her face into his sweaty collar, her ragged breaths hitching as they continued riding through the trees. She felt like she was burning alive. The fire licking at the wound on her side, festering and boiling through her body, making her limbs feel full of lead. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she numbly pressed farther into warm body wrapped around her. She was grateful to have him in the end with her. He had been her one of her biggest and only comforts since their QZ days. They'd come a long way just for her to be taken out by some greenhorn Hunter on a simple supply run. Luck always runs out sometime, she thought bitterly.</p><p>"I see it!" Joel's voice broke her trance. Sam didn't know who's raggedy breathe belonged to whom but she felt Joel squeeze her tighter. It was incredibly hard to keep her eyes open. They flickered barely wide enough but the world around her was a blur of greens and browns. "Hang 'n there, Darlin'." His gruff voice seemed farther away but she couldn't seem to follow it as she faded into the darkness.</p><p>* * *</p><p>When she woke up she was alone. A searing pain in her side kept her grounded but she could thankfully keep her eyes open long enough to know they'd made it to somewhere safer. She lay there in the pit black for a few minutes, struggling to contain the tears pooling in her eyes. She was alive.</p><p>Sam sniffled and extended her good arm, whimpering quietly at the hot flash of pain in her other side. The flat mattress underneath her was covered in layers of worn sheets and quilts. Her fingers curled around the soft yarn as her eyes adjusted to the dark, her head turning to take in more of the shadowed room. From what she could see it was a fairly simple bedroom with a trashed dresser and broken vanity in the corner. She could make out it was a log cabin and seemingly long abandoned by the state of the bedroom alone. A closed door on the left caught her eye but the open door on the right held her attention as loud footsteps shuffled in the next room. A thin orange light streamed in from the open door, broken by a tall shadow moving back and forth.</p><p>"Joel." She croaked, dry coughing from the unknown strain the words caused. It had hardly been above a whisper but made her throat clinch. Her chest ached, the pain hot and stabbing into her side in waves. The footsteps stopped abruptly and her ears perked at the soft curse she heard. The light dimmed as the shadow grew bigger before the silhouette of Joel appeared in the doorway.</p><p>"God damn, woman. Ya nearly gave me a heart attack." But the rough voice held no malice towards her, she heard the relief hiding behind the fake stern exterior. He made his way over to the bedside in only a few steps, a looming figure above her as he reached down to assess his makeshift dressings. She tried to keep still as he carefully tended to her, the overwhelming smell of sweat and evergreens and something uniquely Joel washing over her senses. He produced his water bottle and sat carefully next to her on the bed. After unscrewing the cap, Joel tilted the rim to her lips, cradling her head and helping her drink the lukewarm water, cooling her wounds and burning body. All too soon he pulled away.</p><p>"Open." He said as he pressed a pill against her lips with his fingers, following it with the rim of the water bottle again. She obeyed, swallowing the pill and refreshing water greedily before collapsing into the mattress.</p><p>Thank you, she wanted to say, willing the message to him with a brush of her hand over his on the frayed quilt instead. The corners of his eyes softened. Message received.</p><p>They stared at each other for a long silence, searching each other's faces and appreciating the moment. She was alive and he had saved her. Sam watched his brow wrinkle as he sighed, looking down at the weak fingers curled around his. In a moment of peace Joel gently brings her hand up to his face, pressing his lips against the back of her hand. The untrimmed grey and brown whiskers prickle against her skin as he holds her hand against his cheek. It's a very vulnerable moment between the two, unlike one they've ever shared before. It's a new and unknown path they both are a little scared to explore, for fear of falling past the point of no return. They'd never truly address how they felt in this partnership between the two of them. So she understood why he pulled away, setting the water bottle on the bedside table and once again the wall was rebuilt in the blink of an eye.</p><p>"I've gotta finish securin' the windows 'n there. I'll be back in a minute."</p><p>She kept her head turned towards the now empty space beside the bed as Joel moved towards the door. Exhaustion began creeping in again. She hadn't heard him lingering in the entryway, his quiet breathing and eyes taking in her battered form. or the tapping of fingertips against the door frame as he sent up a silent prayer to whatever sentient beings were out there for protecting her tonight. But it was his warm sigh that tingled her ears, causing a shiver to run down her spine. She followed the creaking of the floorboards as he made his way back over to her. Warm fabric draped over her, helping hide her smile as the nimble fingers she was just holding onto now tucked the quilt around her as gently as possible. She caught the smell of evergreens and Him again before darkness surrounded her once more.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The following days pass with a speedy recovery thanks to the resources from the untouched log cabin, although Sam's been referring to it as her Haven. The moment she could stand she was requesting to relieve herself after spending hours bedridden. Joel was quick to block the closed door in the bedroom and warm her about the contents but after a short argument about safety and honesty the door was opened, revealing the near skeletal corpse of the cabin's owner and an empty revolver next to the tub.</p><p>"Must'a done himself in when this all started. He ain't fresh."</p><p>"Still smells like it! Jesus, please close that fuckin' door. You're right, never open it again."</p><p>Joel had picked the bathroom clean of what medications and useful supplies were left over. For what it was worth, the tiny soiled bathroom was practically a gold mine. A roll of gauze, the empty revolver, and to Joel's surprise an untouched pill bottle of Hydrocodone that made him feel like an optimist when he saw it was still half full and not totally empty.</p><p>With rest, medicine, and Joel's persistent care, Sam is able to regain some of her mobility within two days. Each step requires all her energy and focus and thankfully Joel is never far behind, always ready to catch her if she loses balance. Eventually she can get out of bed and stand up on her own. It's not much but it's a start. She's still in no condition to travel but now they're playing the waiting game. Either they take the chance with her condition and make their way back to camp or they can slowly starve and end up like the body in the bathtub.</p><p>That night when she's laying in bed feeling weightless and pain free thanks to the opioids, Joel's hand brushes hers underneath the worn quilts. "I've got to go out tomorrow. Find us somethin' to eat." His words wash over her in the stillness of the dark bedroom. Moonlight peaks through the boarded up window, casting ghostly rays against his facial features. His sunken cheeks and burning eyes look into hers. He's not giving up without a fight. They just need a little more time.</p><p>"Leave me." She whispers, looking away to the wooden ceiling, staring at the broken light fixture above them. Sam feels the argument welling up inside of the body next to her, the uncomfortable shifting on the ragged mattress as he finds the words. "To go get help. It's just a few days ride-"</p><p>"You ain't-" he bites back a hiss as he tries to control his voice, "you ain't gonna make it a few days alone."</p><p>She knows he's right. Even with the medication, even with the shelter, she's just a starving sitting duck. There were countless days Sam had to go on without food. Hunger wasn't a foreign feeling for her. But while fasting was commonplace, they'd already been without food since their second day in the cabin and if Joel left for camp he'd be gone for at least three more. She was trying to give him an out. He could still save himself if he left her here.</p><p>"The patrol's route runs just north of this cabin doesn't it? I saw the map. If you leave tomorrow you could-"</p><p>"I'm not leavin' you." He emphasized with a growl, the hand laying next to hers twitching with nerves until she entwined their fingers together, pulling him closer. With a sigh he relented, shuffling as close as he considered safe with her injuries so that they were side by side, his hand still locked with hers, trapped in between them. She turned as best she could to nuzzle her face into his broad shoulder, covered in his dirty cotton t-shirt. They lay together in silence, her face tucked into his chest, feeling its rise and fall and how his breath tickled her hair. She wondered if Tommy and Maria had noticed their absence. If Ellie had started to question why they hadn't returned two days ago like planned. How much longer until she could manage to ride, at least to town? Was it really that absurd to have Joel attempt a rescue? Even if he only rescues himself?</p><p><em>You're not dying and you deserve a chance to live,</em> she wants to say. <em>People are relying on you, Joel and you're wasting away with me in this damn cabin. Get out! Get out and save yourself! </em>But the drugs are making her head feel fuzzy and she can't quite get her tongue to move or her brain to process words.</p><p>"You're not dying Joel." Sam manages to whisper into his neck, the words vibrating into him.</p><p>She feels the pause in his breathing, an inhale that's held a bit too long before her hair is tickled again from the exhale above her.</p><p>"S'not your time either. I ain't lettin' you go that easily."</p><p>His words echo over her in a wave of relief and warmth before the room falls back in to a still yet comfortable silence. She tries to focus on the weight of him next to her and the gentle pressure of his thumb rubbing against her hand under the quilt. It's moments like this she wants to tell him everything. Wants to confess all the mushy feelings she's been picking away at since she'd met him those many years ago. It had been so easy to dismiss the infatuation and put off the hard feelings in place of the comfortable companionship they'd built and both seemed to enjoyed. She took care of him, and he took care of her. The looks and longing touches and nights spent curled around each other in the same bed were just a part of their routine. He never overstepped the invisible and unspoken boundaries despite her attempts at drawing more out of him. Joel was her rock. She didn't mind not having definitive terms for what they had as long as they continued to have each other.</p><p> * * *</p><p>When she woke up she was alone again.</p><p>The pain in her side was now just a dull aching throb, the best it's felt in days. Underneath the gauze and tape was a long line of stitches that would hopefully pucker into an eventual scar. Joel had been diligent about checking and maintaining the bullet wound as best he could. She was grateful; he'd saved her life in more ways than one.</p><p>It had taken just a moment of distraction to nearly end her forever.</p><p>Not wanting to think about it, Sam pulled the quilts and bed sheets from off her body, swinging her legs over the mattress and onto the wooden floor below. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to make it across the room to the doorway by herself. Grasping the wooden frame, Sam stopped to catch her breath, peering out into the empty cabin. Joel was gone and for a brief moment she wondered if he had truly left her in chances of reaching safety for himself.</p><p>She scanned the vacated cabin before her. The long couch had been pushed in front of the door, a small gap left wide enough for Joel to have squeeze through on his way out. The trashed kitchen was on the other side of the bedroom wall. A minimal cooking space with a dining table that was missing a few chairs. Across from the kitchenette area is a grimy brick fireplace, decorated with cracked picture frames and years of dust. A thrashed bookshelf and ottoman were shoved in another corner close to the door. The doormat is red with blood, a trail leading throughout the cabin all the way to the bedroom. Sam fairly sure it was hers. She shuffles towards a boarded up window by the bookshelf, the jagged wood and slates leaving only a small space for her to look through. The surrounding woods stood silent and menacing, snow gently beginning to fall and coat the ground with white. She watches the tree line wearily for a few minutes, willing the shape of Joel to appear and rejoin her. But no movement came except for the slight sway from the breeze and the glittering snowflakes drifting to the ground. The fact there was nothing at all scared her even more and made her physically turn away from the window, fear creeping back in.</p><p>The panic in her stomach dissipated when her eyes caught the glint of a knife's blade stuck into the kitchen table on the opposite wall. The sunlight behind her radiated on the cracked lights dangling above the table to illuminated the knife's blade, piercing a crinkled piece of paper with his scrawled hand writing. Sam didn't realize she was already moving across the room, tugging the hilt of the short blade, pulling it from the wood with a grunt before picking up the wrinkled paper.</p><p>
  <em>Out hunting</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Back by night fall</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Knife for you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- J</em>
</p><p>Her eyes greedily read the three lines over and over, always drifting down to the looped initial he left at the bottom. He was a simple man with few words, that's how their relationship had been since the beginning. They liked to play their game that way. With secret messages and silent looks that spoke more than they had ever said to each other. She hoped wherever he was, he was safe. The added protection of the knife gave her a bit more comfort in his absence but this was her first real walk around the cabin and after being bedridden for who knows how long, Sam was itching to stretch her legs around her small Haven. Her fingers traced the silver blade before leaving the knife on the kitchen table next to the note.</p><p>The kitchen had definitely seen better days. A dead fridge, trash, debris, empty boxes and cans littered the floor and cabinets. The body in the bathtub suddenly made Sam's stomach turn with a realization that a bullet may have ended the stranger's life but hunger had eaten away at them before the end. She wondered how much longer she could hold out before making a similar decision. No, she thought as she shuffled around the withered plants and fallen bookshelf, she'd rather face the outside world and risk her chances rather than add to the cabin's body count.</p><p>Slow and steadily she made her way around the cabin, stopping to admire the few pictures from Before that littered the cabin's mantel and walls. An older couple, frozen in time with small children gathered around them. Blooming flowers and sun burnt faces. Road trips to water parks and the Grand Canyon. Smiles and laughter and joy. It seemed like an eternity ago, like a completely different world. A numbness began creeping inside Sam, the gears in her mind spinning with the mystery of what happened to the residents of the log cabin before them.</p><p>A grumbling in her stomach pulled her back to her reality of being stuck in a log cabin with no food and no more Joel. She shook off the gloom and fear that threatened to cloud her and instead turned towards the bookshelf in the corner. She loved to read back in Jackson, where electricity let her to fall into her books any hour of the day in any room of her house. Over the many miles across country and states Sam had gathered maps, guides, journals, and novels when she could, taking only what felt right and worth the extra weight in her bag. She'd grown quite the collection of kids books too although most of those were rotated between the town's children and parents. But as her fingers ran along the spines of the weathered books on the shelf, one in particular caught her attention. She pulled the frayed backing from the shelf, a smile bubbling over as she brushed the dust off its cover.</p><p>
  <em>An Idiot's Guide to Space.</em>
</p><p>Immediately the memory of Ellie's birthday surprise came to mind. The excitement of the younger girl when she and Joel had returned from their outing, a constant chatter of outer space and planetary awe. Sam had joined them on Joel's porch that night, listening to Ellie ramble about their adventure and the theory of a feathered T-Rex. That night had felt like a lifetime ago. The bright eyed teen and her infectious laughter, the huffs and warm chuckles from Joel before he interrupts to add in details to their stories, including the difficulties of manually rewinding a cassette tape. "Really added to the immersion though." Ellie had commended. Sam had basked happily in their company, watching them bicker and tease before Joel finally states it's a few hours past Ellie's curfew.</p><p>She remembers their goodbyes and the smile Joel tries to hide when Ellie wraps her arms around him before bounding off the porch steps and into the night. She made no comment on the way he stood, staring out into the dark street and waiting until he sees the shrinking silhouette disappear safely into the youth living quarters. It was endearing to see his love and protectiveness when Sam knew from their shared history that his hate and malice could be just as powerful. She liked to think Ellie made him a better man, or at least made him want to be a better man. The kind of man that plans a surprise camping trip to an abandoned science museum for his chosen family.</p><p>Shaking off the nostalgia, Sam blinks down at the dusty book in her hands with a heavy smile. Joel would get a laugh out of it when he gets back. The sudden thought locks Sam in place, eyes glazing over past the words on the cover. The creeping sense of dread is back, gnawing in the pit of her stomach and making her side wound burn. She instinctively presses a hand against the heat in her ribs, willing her heart back to a steady pace. Her next thought has her slinking back into the bedroom with the space book in hand, collapsing with a groan onto the quilt covered mattress before closing her eyes.</p><p><em>Not when</em>, she thinks. <em>If he comes back at all.</em></p><p>* * *</p><p>She's not sure what time it is when she wakes next. Honestly, the time of day hadn't really crossed her mind when she hears a banging against the cabin door. Her eyes fly open, hands scrambling for the knife she had moved to the bedside table next to her. The persistent throbbing in her side made stealth a bit harder as she gingerly tip toed across the wooden floor, careful not to put weight on any loose boards. The banging had quieted somewhat, her ears straining to pick up the sound of the door knob rattling. Could it be Joel? She chances a minute of safety to quickly move over to the boarded bedroom window, peaking out into the dying light. The tree line remains empty and ominous, drifting in the evening breeze. It's nightfall like Joel promised. But no footprints or signs of their horse. Another sharp knock from the cabin door draws Sam's attention away from the window. Her fingers tighten around the knife's handle with a tense grip. She might not be in full fighting shape but she wasn't going to go down easy.</p><p>Scenarios are running through her head. <em>No footprints on the east of the house, maybe it was the Hunters chasing them from the west? Was it another survivor? Was it Infected? Was it-</em></p><p>"Joel!"</p><p>The sight of his bearded face appearing from behind the cracked front door makes her cry out, limping around the corner. Moonlight creates a faint glow around his figure as he shoves his leg through the narrow gap. The little light streams in before he heaves himself back, pushing the door closed and entrapping them back into the shadowed room. He comes farther inside the cabin, arms full of sticks and twigs. Sam's feet are moving her across the wooden floor without much thought, fingers uncurling around the knife's hilt, letting it clatter on top of the kitchen table as she steps towards him. After dropping the firewood to the floor, Joel joins her by the table, dirty hands pulling the backpack off his shoulders.</p><p>"You do okay while I was gone?"</p><p>She drinks him in, eyes assessing his roughened state. His movement seems okay as he places the backpack on the table and shucks off his dirty beige jacket. "Yeah, got some reading in." Her gaze moves up, watching him brush the peppered hair out of his face. She catches the way his eyes travel up her body, doing a similar check on his partner. He blinks sheepishly when he notices her looking, the wrinkles around his eyes softening when his lips tug into a brief smile. The ache in her side is nothing compared to the one in her heart. A fresh cut runs along his cheek and her fingers twitch to reach out and study it closer. But Joel never stays still for long and now he's riffling through the backpack's contents, pulling out various tools and a wrapped bundle of cloth.</p><p>"Well while you were hittin' the books, I caught us dinner." The contents of the bundle reveal a skinned hare, gutted, washed and ready for roasting. Just the pleasant tone of his voice makes her face heat up. Combined with the utter relief she feels of knowing he's once again saved her life by providing them food turns her cheeks pink and warm. She bites her bottom lip to keep from saying those complicated words but she can't contain herself. She had been so sure her luck had run out. The odds finally stacked against them with a bullet wound and starvation and a log cabin suicide. She felt an overwhelming sense of love for this oblivious old man who had already retreated in front of the fireplace with kindling.</p><p>She couldn't stop herself from stepping up behind him, hands reaching for his waist. He flinched slightly at her touch but said nothing as her arms wrapped around his stomach, pressing her forehead against his t-shirt covered back. Her bottom lip trembled with emotion, eyes closed and desperate to keep the tears at bay. Joel was kind enough to let her have her minute, standing awkwardly with the bundle of firewood in his arms and shifting his weight more evenly after a moment. She sniffled into his shirt, willing all her affection and compassion to flow through her touch, desperate for him to know how grateful she is.</p><p>"Thank you." It's barely audible with her mouth muffled against his shirt but then she's pulling away and turning to help prepare their meager dinner before he can reply. The look he gives her from across the room tells her the message was received.</p><p>* * *</p><p>They lay side by side that night on the pile of blankets covering the bedroom mattress, both happily content after eating their first meal in days. Her back is pressed against his front, heat radiating through the cotton shirt and thin quilt. She pulled the arm around her waist closer, appreciating his willingness to let her hand cover his and entwine their fingers together. He didn't seem like an overly affectionate man but Sam had been surprised by how many of the casual touches and hand brushes Joel initiated throughout their years traveling together. It had taken time to build trust and their relationship to where it was now. She didn't trust just anyone to watch her 6 and Joel had proven himself to be one of the best shots and survivors she'd met since the world began burning. It was just an added bonus that she found him incredibly handsome, especially the scruffy whiskers and crow's feet around his dark eyes.</p><p>She was more than happy with the platonic nature they had developed the first few years. Then fleeting embraces in their companionship had slowly turned to teasing touches and flirting looks but never crossed any physical boundaries. It hadn't bothered her much until recently, she was content with just being around Joel, holding his hand is a bonus. But the ache in her side was telling her that she wasn't guaranteed tomorrow and the presence of the older man put a deep need in her heart she'd been ignoring far too long.</p><p>His thumb brushing over her hand draws her back to reality. "Are we leaving tomorrow?" The sensation of his skin against her brings a warmth to her cheeks.</p><p>"S'our best chance I reckon." he mumbled from behind her, chest rising against her back with every breath.</p><p>"I'm ready. We should go 'fore another snowfall and our prints can be tracked." she added, mind flashing back to the face of the man behind the barrel of the gun aimed at her. The fear and anger in the Hunter's eyes as he fires wildly. Joel shouts ahead of her when she felt the fire pierce through her side and she remembers falling into the space next to him behind their fence line cover. He'd grabbed her face in his hands, eyes frantically searching hers and a promise on his lips that he'll get them to safety if she just held on. She remembers hearing more gunshots and the feeling of Joel lifting her weak body onto a saddle. Or had she heard the gunshots after they rode off?</p><p>"Don't worry 'bout the Hunters. We took care of 'em." His thumb stills and presses into the skin of her hand softly. It's a small symbol of protection. He must have found the remaining ones they'd left behind. Of course he did, even if he'd only been gone one day Joel always finished a job. She wondered if any of them had gone through what she has, the suffering recovery of a bullet only for Joel Miller to return and finish the job.</p><p>Mindful of her weak side, she shuffles to turn over and face him. He raises his arm up, watching her flip and wiggle until their chests are nearly touching and their eyes meet as he lowers his arm back down. His large hand caresses her shoulder, running along the top of her shoulder blades before his fingers trailed up the back of her neck. The hair on her head flutters from his exhale when she presses her face farther into his chest, sinking into his warm body. It wasn't that unusual for them to share their body heat when they patrolled or traveled together. It was a matter of survival and never a second thought in the comfort of someone so trusted. But her heart is beating faster and she can't blame it's cause on the bullet wound.</p><p>Confessions are working their way up her throat and she swallows to try and push the feelings back down. Her side pulses with an aching that is soothed by his wondering fingertips winding through the hair on the nape of her neck. "You did good today, old man." Her whisper is accompanied by the crickets outside and the light hum of his exhales.</p><p>"Been doin' good for days. You've just been sleepin' on your ass." His ribbing earns him a soft punch in the stomach for that but the way her fist uncurls and presses against his firm chest tells him she isn't really upset.</p><p>"I'll make it up to you when we get back."</p><p>"Why not now?" It spills out of his mouth before his mind can process and then they're staring into each others eyes, both a little shocked at the quick escalation. She searches for the signs of teasing but is only met with his dark gaze, pupils dilated and burning back into hers. Desire wells up inside of her when his fingers timidly continue their exploration in her hair, thumb rubbing the space behind her ear causing a shiver. Craning her neck the extra few inches, she closes the space between their faces. Her nose brushes against his cheek, hesitating for a moment to allow him an opportunity to withdraw.</p><p>He doesn't pull back. Instead he tilts until his lips are pressed against hers. At first it's chaste, just a gentle pressure of chapped skin and the tickle of the whiskers on his upper lip. Sam happily reciprocates, the hand on his chest slowly balling up the front of his t-shirt to tug him closer still. She pulls back enough to quickly inhale before pressing her lips against his again, humming as he cradles her head from behind. When they break apart their mingled breath is hot against her warm cheeks. She can't take her eyes away from his lips or the pink tongue that darts out to wet them. They move to connect once more, this time with with an adrenaline of emotions coursing through her. Her hand between them runs up his chest and the low rumble he makes reverberates through his entire torso.</p><p>When Joel finally pulls away Sam hadn't realized her eyes had closed. "Maybe uh..." he stammers, face a lovely crimson shade in the dark bedroom. "Maybe we <em>should</em> save that for when we get back." He pulls his fingers from her hair, hand caressing down her spine until it settles back around her waist, careful to avoid brushing against the gauze covered stitching on her side. Her tired smile told him he was right, so she tucked her head under his chin with a contented sigh. She considered those three kisses to be the beginning of something more to come. It was a fantastic start.</p><p>They lay together for a few minutes of silence, basking in the afterglow of their physical spark and simply adoration for each other. Joel broke the silence when he began going over the travel plans for tomorrow morning. Always back to business, never one to stay still for too long. She tried hard to follow along as she lay reflecting on the feeling of his warm lips against her but soon enough sleep slowly takes over.</p><p>* * *</p><p>She watches the birds flying in the branches above them as they ride North along the tree line, trailing their way back towards Jackson in the morning sun. A cardinal shakes the last of the snow from its perch on their right. Sam shifts in the saddle behind Joel, arms wrapped lightly around his middle, her fingers brushing against the zipper of his winter coat.</p><p>They hadn't brought up the kissing from last night. Not when she teased him for making the bed that morning or when he chastised her for taking too long to pack, although she hoped he'd laugh when he finds <em>An Idiot's Guide to Space</em> she had hidden in the front pocket of his backpack. They avoided the words when their hands touched as they finished loading their gear next to Caesar's saddle and when the firm presence of his hands on her sore waist helps lift her into the stirrups.</p><p>Now she can enjoy the feeling of him so close without pressure of watching eyes or whispering gossip. She relishes this time they share together, knows that as they leave the log cabin behind that she'll never take for granted the comfort Joel gives her. Her face presses deeper into the fabric of his jacket, breathing him in. Sam decides then to tell him when they get back. Her fingers dip past the buttons of his flannel, brushing the cotton t-shirt underneath and enjoying the solid warmth he radiates. She's not sure what to say but she'll figure out how to tell him how she truly feels when they arrive back in the safety of Jackson. Until then she presses her cheek against his back, watching the trees pass them by.</p>
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